Flycasting from the bow of a boat bobbing around in tall waves, swirls and boiler rocks is like trying to hit a small target while standing on a mechanical bull set on high. I did almost lose my balance a couple times.....I have legs covered with bruises from it. It was awesome. You never knew when or from where the hits would come. We all worked our butts off. Every fish, every follow, every strike was earned. At one point both Rob and I were tossing the poppers and we'd be pulling fish toward Blake from two directions....Robbo and I would yelling "BLAKE! BLAKE! GET YOUR FLY OVER HERE! BLAKE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? BLAKE WHAT THE HELL? CAST HERE! HERE! HERE HE IS!!! Sometimes we would simply run out of room as the fish would practically slam into the side of the Koffler chasing our flies. Robbo used a musky "figure eight" once to hook a big snapper that attacked his popper literally 6 inches from the side of the boat. Amazing.

2:30 PM……. almost time to go in and call it a great adventure. My wrist and elbows were aching from hours of casting my stiff 12 wt flyrod. I grabbed my spinning rod and started hucking big poppers again. Robbo and Blake were both chugging Balboas. Fatigue set in from hour after hour of nonstop casting. Blake whined about sore wrists and shoulders. Mrs. Mingo was the world's best bartender, making sure we were all well hydrated with nonstop beers. What do you think happened? Of course. With those guys totally spent, I had a GIANT rooster follow my popper on the first cast. Rob saw it (his 6’8” sitting position is the same height as my 5’8” tiptoe position). It swirled once and missed my lure 10 feet from the boat. Rob immediately sprang up and started casting again, Blake stripped line from his reel and we were back in action. Another huge rooster comes in….Blake casts…the fish follows…and turns away. Nada. Finally Camillo says "5 minutes more, okay, guys?" Cool.

I made one final cast to a boiling cluster of rocks………….



I popped my lure twice and had a massive strike from a bluefin trevally. My drag was clamped down tight and he STILL took line. He bulldogged me hard left, then straight down, then up. Robbo was standing up on the console rail and had the best vantage point.





My jack zipped right and wrapped me around two rock formations. "Mingo! Hand me your rod, I see where he is!" I gave Rob my stick and he and Camillo played cat and mouse with the fish for over 15 minutes, trying to unwrap the line. My Saltiga reel was a gift from my awesome Hawaiian brother Jon Yoshihara. Jon had set it up with his favorite 80 pound braid and a long 80 pound leader, the exact same system he uses when he chases giant trevally in Fiji. I was set up with the best possible terminal rigging thanks to his expertise, and we would have lost the fish if not for this setup and Rob’s keen eyes and experience in this fishery…….





After many nerve-wracking minutes Rob yelled "He's off! Mingus!!! Mingo!! He's free bro!” as he handed the wildly bucking rod back to me. Another 15 minutes of serious tug 'o war and we caught and released this beauty. An awesome end to a great day!







Back on board, Blake and I celebrated the trip with the Slappy Dance……..



Her fish was immediately sliced into a mouth-watering snack platter by Jose “El Huevos”…….



When a girl needs a nap, she needs a place to rest her head…………………..



The gang chillin’, enjoying cold beers and the warm Panamanian sun………



Thanks for the awesome 50th birthday present honey! I can’t wait to go back!!



The gang enjoying our final Panama sunset……………until next year.



Thanks for a great adventure my friends!

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Grab life by the nuts. It’s the only one you get.